The power of a name
by SuspensefulSurrussus
Summary: The exploration of the power of one mans psychosis and how it Can shape the world around him. The power of words.
1. Chapter 1- Discovering His Name

_**A 22 jump street**_ _Fanfriction- a crossing of two roads_

I almost jumped when I saw him. That gringo knew it

And I knew it.

This street, the 22nd one was not to be the last.

I realised I was being asked a question.

My name.

I was scared. If they found out I wasn't Mexican… They'd kill me.

I turned my head, summoned my demons, spirit and all the passion in my heart.

It took some time.

"My name Jeff."

They looked confused.

"My name Jeff"

I stared with blank eyed defiance,half fear half determination all… Jeff.

"My name Jeff"

It became palpable, I could feel the words rise out my mouth. "My" had a discernible taste, like a hot chilli (red because I ain't no inferior green chilli muncher). It felt like something i could roar out at someone.

Next came the "name". I felt right and wrong to say, much like putting my identity itself out for display. On one hand it made me vulnerable, showed my weaknesses and all that I am. But on the other, it displays me. Me. It is the essence of who I am and if that is not something to be proud of , something not to challenge the world with, not matter the risk, then I don't know what is.

Finally, that succulent Jeff. Jeff. Jeff. Jeff. Jeff.

It's so sweet and tender yet so distorted and painful, like a fleeting kiss from lips made of fire or gently grasping a butterfly made of barb wire. The pain teeters on the edge, too much and it would sting, too little and you wouldn't feel anything. A euphoric knife's edge that no one can take from me. It takes up my whole being, forces me to concentrate on it like a knot in my stomach, a Gordians knot that must be unfurled and solved in my esophagus before it is allowed to thread between my teeth. The fear, the risk, the… Beauty that it elicits from me is nigh on indescribable, so much so that my efforts here are much like that of a 2 year old trying to convey the meta-analytical message of "a picture of Dorian Gray." ( unless it's one of those little genius ones with the pianos and such; but they don't count for anything as they often don't make it past 10 before their obscura obliterates them.)

All in all, this divine battle of the fates one must endure in order to convey such meaning is well worth it for the asceticism that one achieves.

All it requires is a mob of Mexican gangsters staring you down as you pretend not to be a Gringo. The thrill of being caught plays into it but there must be something more.

My partner, a dumpy man whose last name is appropriately "Hill", turns his portly frame towards me after spending some time attempting to disengage us from these mobsters. I had remained silent, the use of those holy trinity of words now becoming a savour experience. I would wait some time before I would speak them again.

The words would haunt me for the rest of my life, soon leading me to start a cult movement of those who have heard the call.

But that is for another day….

Jeff.

Cont-

 **AN: hey guys what did you think of my first fanfiction? I wanted to tackle a serious topic in one of the most serious fandoms. The exploration of one man's psychosis and how he uses it to garner followers is an idea I've wanted to write about. Channing Tatum's stunning persona and performance in 22 jump street really gave me something to pour my creative juices into. Let me know if you want me to continue or not and if I should change from T to M for some … lemon.**

 **That's about it, thanks for reading and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2: a resurgence

Chapter 2: a resurgence of suppressed power

It has been some time since it had happened last.

2 more adventures as well as some side escapades later

and this was life now. No longer was it fast cars and stake outs.

Our luck would run dry and we knew it. Not too soon after the final

case, Mr Hill, much in the fashion that Watson did to Sherlocks

materials after a study in scarlet; published a rather romanticised

account of events as well as some accompanying CCTV footage.

I was a bit miffed at first but the pudgy man had worked his way

into my heart long ago and I couldn't bare to deny him.

Then it happened.

The footage from my revelation in that mobster den was put in as

a side reel. It contained a power that I had hidden within, knowing that

if the words got out that some, the chosen few would respond with

revolution.

My previous partner in crime busting and now occasional drinking

buddy had released it, perhaps in ignorance, perhaps with the words

subconsciously guiding him from the get go. Either way what is done

is regrettably done. The forces of the trinity would inevitably converge

and many would seek to misrepresent the word of Jeff. I was there at the

so called ground zero. The general public saw a distorted version through

the transient mirror of the Internet. Sure the words would still carry the majority

of their power but the essential essence and aim of such will be devastatingly off

and would lead to conflict and potential destruction.

I knew that this would happen. The words told me. However, no matter how much

it ached my being I dared not use the words that secretly convinced the mob not

to kill us. I had no idea how strong they were and the act was out of necessity.

It was dumb luck there was no one resonant at that place, or they would be on the

same level as me. I bare this power and it screams to be let out. But it is a

primal power, a beast and it shall not control me. It may totally destroy me over

ttime from the inside but I refuse to allow myself to become a vessel for something else

no matter what power it affords me. I know many would kill to live eternally as the

antenna of Jeff but they must not have it. I would have carried this to the grave but

it seems my partners famous blundering had lead to a catastrophic event.

Second hand resonants would not have full power or control, my weak abilities

have told me. Resonants are also very rare in the population, thus the medium would

have to fan the wild fire flames of this disfigured word of Jeff and turn it into a spreading

disease, eating away at the cells within. Little did I know, my name Jeff compilations

would become that cancer and serve as a vector to change the metaphysical genetics of

the general population.

My own revelation making unknowing individuals new Jeffites fills me with a strange mixture

of guilt and a sick pride.

However this has left me in a precarious situation: If I was to hunt down those who it had

profoundly effected, I would have three obstacles;

I have no idea who they are with out using my powers

My powers are limited and using self control and instinct will blur the line of right and wrong.

The most dangerous ones who realised their potential will also know who I am due to my face and voice being the cause. They will see me coming and may even group up on me.

The road ahead will be long and arduous. I will have to struggle with the power of the words as

well as make sacrifices for the greater good. This is my responsibility to fix or at least try.

I feel only guilt and...

I'm sorry Hill. I couldn't let you die but I fear a worse fate may lay in store for you and all I love.

Sorry. Now we look forward to the future. I write as I prepare to hunt for the first time.

"My name Jeff." To be continued-


End file.
